


Castellamarese War

by Miss_Indecerous



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Deadpool - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man - All Media Types, Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel (House of M), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Betrayal, Cheating, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:13:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Indecerous/pseuds/Miss_Indecerous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 1920s AU about bloody power struggles for control of the Italian-American mafia between two factions. One faction which is run by New York's hot shot entrepreneur, Tony Stark. Some one has started a blood feud associates, and even family are turning up dead in the streets. Who will become Boss of All Bosses for the entire mafia? How much Blood would you shed for the one you love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why Don’t You Do Right

**Author's Note:**

> *This fanfiction is not stolen i'm reposting it from an old Fanfiction.net account I had*
> 
> please leave reviews and constructive criticism if you wish to know more feel free to message me 
> 
> (OwO)

Tony Stark stepped into the old cloudy apartment complex, the floors were covered in what appeared to be dust and some form of feces; the air felt stale and musty, one wouldn’t be able to stand in the building without fear of the roof caving in on them. Tony walked around the room attentively, pacing the floor so feverishly that dust once again began to reclaim the room; Tony stopped and turned to the realtor who stood alongside his son, Peter. A smirk grew on Tony’s face as he stepped back over to the salesman; he moved so quickly it was almost as though he’d glided across the floor, stunning both Peter and the realtor. “Well, would you look at this” Tony said, right before he grabbed Peter’s arm and pulled him in close, putting his arm around him. “So whaddya think?” Tony said. Peter, disheveled from his aggressive displacement, took a moment to collect himself and looked around, only to look back at Tony with skepticism and disbelief. “You’re kidding me right?” “No, no I’m not. Well, not any more than usual. Look, it's spacious and it's got plenty of room.” “Yeah, if you like broken wood, creaky floors, and a nice broken roof to keep you warm at night” Peter said, wandering around the room. “Don’t be such a wet blanket, this is a blessing in disguise. You just don’t know from nothing.” The realtor stood between the two in confusion, jaw agape unsure of what to say or how to even say it. “S-so” the realtor said, doing his best to steer the conversation back in his direction. “What do you think Mr. Stark?” Tony, in the midst of his discussion with Peter, turned his attention the timid man.

 

“What do i think?” Tony replied, almost as if he was offended by the realtor’s question “What do I think? Pete, you hear this guy? He wants to what I think.” Tony’s voice grew louder and held far more disbelief than before. The salesman quaked in his brown lace up oxfords out of utter fear; sure he knew his ham fisted attempt to get back to the sale was bad but he surely didn't mean to offend the man. He was unable to form a coherent sentence as the tall dark gentleman moved over to his direction. He seemed a lot taller than the realtor last remembered, maybe it was the fear itself that created this illusion “You’re askin ME, what I THINK?” Tony now loomed over the salesman. “Y-yes, i-i’m sorry if I of-fended you, I only meant tha-” Tony burst into a fit of laughter at the man's pathetic display, leaving both the Realtor and Peter with a dumbfounded look on their faces, making Tony’s laughing fit even worse. “Pe-Peter do you hear this guy?” Tony said. Peter, getting fed up with the Tony’s shtick, sighed loudly in hopes of getting his attention and more importantly ending this bit. “Come on old man, you’re scaring the guy, you pill” Peter said, slapping Tony on the back. Tony sighed, wiping tears from his eyes, before he pulled the realtor in for a good laugh. The realtor wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, he tried to laugh but it just came off as insincere. “Lighten up, will yah? I was just razzing you, no harm done.” “O-oh, o-of course my apologies. So about the price-” “Don’t worry about it, you’ll get your 105,000 clams” Tony said, as he brushed the salesman aside. Peter followed suit as he and Tony headed towards the door. The realtor chased after them. “M-Mr.Stark! I’m well aware of your situation but-.” Tony stopped on his heels, the air felt far tenser than it did earlier. “Oh I am well aware of my situation, as well as yours.” Tony said, and the salesman stepped back as Tony’s glare stared daggers into him. “I am well aware.” Tony stepped toward the man. The realtor fell back on his ass in a desperate attempt to get away from him; Peter looked back over his shoulder. “Tell me, do you know what sort of situation you’re in?” Tony waited for a reply; the silence felt like an eternity, Peter held his breath in hopes the man answered correctly. “I-I’m a-a-aw-” “Good, I’d hate to have to take yah for a ride. “The man sat on the floor in silence. Peter sighed, but it wasn't a sigh of relief. “Come on Peter, I’d hate for you to Miss Amos ‘n’ Andy.” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair, but Peter swatted Tony’s hand away and walked to the car. “Had I known who this man was, I wouldn't've given in so easily.” Peter got in the car and Tony drove them away.

 

It had gotten to be around 6 o’clock when Peter and Tony got back to the manor. They both stepped out the car and headed up the cobblestone path to their estate, the silence was awkward and uncomfortable. “So, you excited about the new business?” Peter didn’t reply; instead he seemed to be picking up his pace in hopes of distancing himself from the man and closing his window of opportunity for a discussion. Considering Tony’s strides were far longer than his own, Peter’s efforts were all for not. “You’ve been really quiet lately. Is this gonna be a new thing? I like it.” Peter continued his brisk pace. Tony sighed and stepped in front of the young man “Hey” Tony put his hand in front of Peter’s chest to stop him and get his attention. Peter, now annoyed with Tony’s behavior, glared up at him “What do you want?” “What’s with the attitude? What’s eatin ya?” Peter didn’t feel the need to answer the man, nor did he wish to speak. Peter tried to sidestep Tony but he only found himself in the exact same situation he was in before. Tony cocked his head to the side, waiting for Peter’s answer; “Come on, spit it out, freezin’ my ass off out here.” “Well then go inside” but once again Peter was stopped by Tony. It was now clear that the only way he was going to get out of this was to answer him. “Okay, how about the fact that you threatened that guy earlier?” “Hey, come on, that wasn’t a threat, that was simply a business transaction.” Peter rolled his eyes and continued on the path to the house. “Hey, what do you want from me?” Peter stopped on the porch “I adopted you and put a roof over your head, what’s the problem?” “THE PROBLEM IS, YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE! You don’t know when to quit.” Tony, shocked at the accusation, stood there eyes wide. “I’m going to bed.” Peter went up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. Tony sat on the porch, reflecting over the day's events, unsure what to make of it all. “Come on, the kid’s just being dramatic I’m not that bad.” Tony sighed, tired and exhausted, unsure of why he ever adopted the kid. He missed the days when Peter wasn’t so moody. Just as he was getting up to go inside, a man came running up the path. Tony clenched his hidden browning, model 1922, in his coat, unsure of what to make of the situation. “Tony?” he recognized the voice and sighed in relief. He let go of his gun and sat back down on the porch”Hey Steve.” Tony, even though he was out of it, managed a smile on his face. “What’s wrong? Why’re you out here?” Tony didn’t wish to stir up the old emotions he had just sorted through. He stood up once again, holding the door open slightly “You thirsty? I’m thirsty. Come on, let’s go get drinks.” Steve, unsatisfied with Tony’s answer, followed him into the house in hopes of shedding some light on the situation. The house was cozy and well laid out; the living room had a couch and two other chairs, a rug and fireplace, which hadn’t been started for a while, judging by the wood. Steve followed Tony into his study; he gave tony a look of anticipation, waiting for the answer to his question, but to no avail as Tony continued to wander around the room, muttering on about something Steve couldn't understand, nor did he care to know. “So get this, the guy has the gall to-” “Tony!” silence reclaimed the room and they both stared at each other for a moment. Tony sighed and sat down at his desk; he looked like a wreck. It looked as if the day had taken more of a toll on him than he cared to admit. Steve sat on the edge of his desk “Come on, what’s wrong?” this time it held a lot more power behind; it felt more like a demand than a request.

 

“God, that kid” Tony said, laying his head on his arms. Steve figured that was the case and chuckled a little at his presumption “I figured” “I mean I don't get it, I give him any and everything he wants, he goes to a good school, not to mention all those damn gadgets” “Look, Peter is a good kid, i know because I was kind of like him and I don’t think that's the problem.” “Oh please, what isn’t the problem?” Tony got up and headed over to his hidden stash, he pulled out what looked to be bourbon and two shot glasses; He slid one over to Steve, who rolled his eyes in disbelief. He slid off the table and walked over to Tony “You know I could arrest you for that.” Tony knew it was a bluff and proceeded to drink his shot in Steve’s face. Steve sighed, “come on Tony” “No, you come on” Steve, fed up with Tony’s careless behavior, snatched the glass out of his hand “now look, I’ve busted my ass to cover you and your little operation; whatever the hell it is but we can’t keep this up. I can’t keep this up.” Tony knew this was coming, Steve came over almost every week to get on his soapbox and drone on about Tony keeping his nose clean from here on out, He’d listen but only out of courtesy for the bull. Tony didn’t have the heart to quit and somewhere deep down Steve must’ve known this, because he stopped lecturing tony and waited for a response;” Tony things are getting worse, the other families are getting ambitious, people, your associates are popping up dead in the streets I can’t keep looking the other way anymore.” Tony took his glass out of Steve’s hand and slammed it back on the desk “I CAN’T PROTECT EVERY SCHMUCK WHO COMES CRYING STEVE!!!” Steve looked at the man standing before him and saw the pillar of New York’s Mafia crumbling at his feet. “Look I didn’t mean t-” ”No I got it you’re right I’ll be more careful” it was obvious Tony was done talking. He sat on the edge of his desk, Steve joined him they sat there in silence for what felt like hours “Tony I-” “god still?” “No it’s not that, I just don't want to see you end up dead is-” “Steve I’ve been doing this for years-” “yeah and in those years you’ve gotten careless now come on hear me out. You’ve got a good thing going alright? With Peter and your organization I’d hate to see you end up dead over some blood feud.” Tony turned his gaze to the floor and contemplated on what Steve had just said. “I got it” Steve looked as though he was going to lean in for a kiss, but Tony got up before he could seal the deal. “Yeah nice try but maybe another time,y’know when the boy isn’t so unruly and the law isn’t so nosy.” Steve snickered and made his way to the door “if you end up dead I’m going to raise hell in the streets.” Steve smirked “Good night Mr. Stark” and he left for the evening.

 

Not even enveloped in his wool blanket could Peter keep warm. It was always like this. The cold morning air seeped through the cracks in the wood sending chills down his spine; waking him up. Peter lived in the attic of the house, Tony had the roof and the attic refurbished he assumed as a token of goodwill and a welcoming present. Peter sat in his bed for a majority of his mornings reflecting, and thinking about his past and soon to be future; it all scared him he knew what was to be expected of him in the near future, Tony while he never stated it explicitly expected peter to take over the “family business” and the thought of that chilled him to the bone. Peter wasn't stupid, he knew that his position as the boss would come sooner and far more violently than he expected or wanted it to. To have such a huge responsibility thrust upon him made him want to run away. Peter slowly but surely got out of bed, he figured he’d get some work done to take his mind off of it all. Peter’s room was filled to the brim with books. Peter flicked on the light hang from his ceiling the sketches of his elaborate contraptions now illuminated. The pictures covered his bedroom wall like scales, while searching through his books and sketches for this week's homework he came across a photo; old and tattered not to mention a bit blurry, Peter could barely make out the words on the sign he let out a slight chuckle when he recognized the picture. There stood a fourteen year old peter alongside his friends of the orphanage it felt like forever since he thought about that place.

 

Peter remembered the first time he rode up to the orphanage it was a decent sized home with many windows. The curtains billowed in the cool autumn breeze. Outside he saw a woman her hair was a dark brown with strands of grey. Her eyes didn't seem to have a distinct color at least not that peter could recall. She sat on the stairs watching children play in the yard. Their clothes were peculiar; looking back now they were most likely donations or hand-me-downs. The cop who had stayed by his side after his traumatic event came around the car to let him out he guided him to the house. The sidewalk was cracked and uneven; the yard enclosed by a white picket fence---by the looks of it they were as old as the house. The walk must've not been long because before he knew it Peter stood before the woman. “Go on, say hello” little peter peered from behind the young police officer unsure of what to make of the middle aged woman, she laughed at the sight of the frail boy. Her guffaws only made him all the more reluctant to greet her. She knelt down and smiled waiting patiently “hello…” peter’s voice was so low it was drowned out by the wind. The nice woman stood back up “he’s very polite” “thank you ma'am, isn't that right peter?” Peter nodded as he no longer wished to speak “would you like to go play while me and the police officer talk?” while she was far too forward he knew she only had good intentions. Peter nodded and ran off somewhere they couldn't see; the yard was a lot larger than he anticipated as he found himself disoriented and turned around. Peter must’ve been gone for a while because he saw the officer heading towards his car. He chased after him ready to leave when the man stopped him from getting in “this is where we part ways little man.” Peter didn't understand and made another attempt to get back in the car only to be stopped once again. Peter grew angry now Mr. Hemingway has played many games with him before but this was not fun, he wanted answers but he couldn't find the words to speak instead he cried face red shaking his head side to side. “Look buddy she's a real nice lady and there are plenty of other kids’-” “no don't leave!” the officer surely had done this many times before because he was quick to nip his tantrum in the butt. The officer sat peter on his lap and gave him a very generic speech that was not all that memorable. He was sure he’d given it many times to many others, but regardless, the officer's speech gave him hope and comfort, that which he hadn't felt since the day his parents died. Peter waved the man goodbye eyes red from sobbing his shirt he remembered clung wet to his collarbone. A hand slowly crept onto the boy’s shoulder snapping him back into reality; teary eyed he turned to meet the woman's gaze. “Come on Peter I promise you'll be alright” she held out her hand ready to take him inside, but peter was unable to move. The woman sat down on the curb putting her almost face to face with peter. He finally gave in and collapsed onto the woman in tears hugging, and clinging to her to assure himself this was real. It very much was. The reality of it all sent the world crashing around him. She simply said “we'll be okay peter, we'll be okay”

 

The smell of smoke brought Peter back to his senses, in a panic he rushed down the stairs to see where the smell was coming from; only to see Tony desperately fanning the pan on the stove. Only 5 in the morning and the geezer is burning the house down. Peter quick on his feet trotted over to the kitchen grabbing an oven mitt on his way, he grabbed the pan with haste putting it in the sink while simultaneously turning on the water. Tony busy cutting off the stove chuckled at the spectacle “good morning”. Still upset about the other day Peter continued to ignore Tony’s attempts to strike up a conversation but much to his chagrin he continued to speak. Oh come on still? “Peter look I-” “I got to go or I’ll be late.” Peter threw down the oven mitt and headed toward the stairs; a few moments passed before he came back down ready to head off to school, Peter headed towards the door “I’ll see you later” granted it was only a few words, but it still gave Tony a sliver of hope. Peter checked his watch, around 7:45 am he had plenty of time to get to school but he picked up his pace just in case. The morning air had a slight chill; the sky a plethora of oranges and blues it was almost surreal that such a display existed in the world, Peter must’ve been lost in thought because he didn't notice the officer heading his way, both were on a mission walking furiously to their destination so furiously that they ran into one another. He hit the ground with a harsh thud now back in reality peter’s initial response was anger as to who would harass him this early in the morning, the officer taken aback soon remembered where he was and got up with haste “Sorry kid” offering to help Peter up, Peter immediately changed his tone as the officer obviously meant no harm in all fairness he wasn’t watching where he was going either then it suddenly dawned on both of them. “Steve?” Steve’s eyes grew wide looking at the man standing before him; Steve pulled Peter for a hug “Look at you, you’re looking great I haven’t seen you since I left you with” “Mr. Stark” Steve took from the tone that peter was displeased with the arrangement it almost made him laugh just imagining the two interacting. Peter was unsure of what to say to him he hadn’t seen Steve since he was ten it was now 6 years later and he had all but moved on since then. “Hey want to catch up later tell me what’s going on I’ve missed so much” “I’d like that” they stared at each other unsure of what to do next, Peter checked his watch 10 minutes had passed “oh jeez!! I got to go I’ll see you later!”

 

The air was thick and musty the rain and sweat clung to Steve uncomfortably as he carried out the casket the handle cold and heavy, his chest hurt as he passed by his fallen comrades family. Though his wife did her best to keep her composure for her children she still wore her emotions on her sleeve. it hurt far more now than it did when Steve found out, Steve’s mentor of three year had passed; suicide. In his old Ketchum home, Steve always knew Ernest suffered from depression but he never thought Ernest would let it get the best of him. He didn’t remember the ceremony very well not that it mattered, Steve took over the Ernest’s case files when he came across a tattered picture of a little boy. His hair was in his face and it looked unkempt, he wore cartoonishly large glasses and he had the look of someone who had just pissed the bed. Steve was sure Ernest had only two children one of which he met, he flipped the picture over in hopes of shedding light on this situation. Steve’s hands must’ve still been wet as he smudged the first half of the name, the back of the photo read “Never forget _______ Parker visit him every week.” Then that would mean Ernest was a week late on that visit. Steve took it upon himself to go and carry on where Mr. Hemingway left off, He guessed it was his way of making up for not being there for him as well as he should’ve.

 

Steve watched Peter as he ran off to school before making his way up the stairs, he let himself in; the house was smoky and smelled of burnt food he could only assume that it was another poor attempt at, Tony trying to cook he fanned the air in hopes of getting rid of some of it. as he hacked and coughed he squinted the smoke burned his eyes Tony came out of the kitchen in some sort of makeshift apron, Steve was honestly at a loss for words and could give, Tony only a confused stare “good morning” Tony took a bite of some burnt piece of food before spitting it back in the pan “Here” Steve slid some papers across the counter “what's this?” “It’s an estoppel certificate for the apartment complex you just bought” Tony picked up the papers signing each with quick succession. “So what’s the building for?” Tony remained silent only smiling with a deceitful grin, Steve suspected as such and sighed in disappointment--- granted he didn’t expect much though. “I saw, Peter earlier. He looks good, sweet kid you did better than I thought you would.” Tony snickered at the notion unsure of whether or not Steve was being sincere or just having a laugh at him, “yeah, thanks for that.” He left the room throwing his apron on the counter, Steve casually followed him into the living room to see Tony sitting on the sofa; the pattern on the couch was unfitting for the entrepreneur, and made him stick out like a sore thumb. Steve sat down on the chair halfway across the room, neither Tony nor Steve really knew what to talk about granted they could have acknowledged the elephant in the room but tempers would most definitely flare; this they both knew to be true. Sometimes silence is best. Although even with this information Tony still broke it “He really likes you Steve” Steve was happy to hear this, but the pain that trembled behind Tony’s voice when he said it hurt him all the more. Steve tried to make Tony understand “You know that I didn’t mean t-”, but He didn’t want to hear it “Look I got it alright, what are yah going to do?” It was clear Tony was trying to write this all off as quickly as possible. “He’s not like that Tony, he’s just having a rough time coming to terms with your---profession.” The desperation in Steve’s voice only angered Tony even more he wasn’t asking for his pity he had hoped, Steve would at least try to see this from his perspective and empathize, but it was evident that he was unable to reach such conclusion on his own. “You know I’ve been hearing a lot about Peter, and don't get me wrong love the kid but have any of you stopped for just. Just a fraction of a second to just.” He couldn't say it, the words caught in his throat his face grew hot and the frustration ever worse, Tony was battling his demons alone he didn’t have to, and Steve did everything in his power to make it clear he didn’t have to do this alone, yet Tony refused ever still. Steve knew trying to console him would only send him into an even greater fit so he remained objective “Tony I’d like to take custody of Peter.”


	2. Side by Side

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Dark. It’s so very dark “how much longer?” her voice raspy and meek “soon---I promise” the response rumbling through her. That voice, it was so sure of itself its passion and reassurance tightened around her heart. She would be safe so long as that sound continued to reverberate in the world; Wanda knew this to be true. The swaying; turned thumps awoke her under the tween deck of the boat. She heard footsteps very busy and harsh they brought back horrible feelings that which she wished to forget. In a haste to erase such things she shook her brothers violently “Pietro...Pietro” angered now she smacked his arm with fervor, he jolted awake confused and scared unsure of who was touching him or what was going on. Wanda’s voice snapped him back in the moment “we have to go please” he could hear the desperation in her voice she sounded almost on the verge of tears. Pietro jumped to his feet grabbing his sister's hand, it was firm and he was certain not to let go no matter what. The deck was cramped it was difficult to avoid the cargo sliding every which way. Both Wanda and Pietro had to crouch if they wanted to move it hurt terribly, they hadn't moved for what felt like an eternity and now they were up and about as though they were reanimated corpses. Pietro made his way to deck of the ship with Wanda in tow quickly making their way to the back of the ship facing an alleyway.

 

It was dimly lit so nobody would notice their escape. The jump was a good 10 ft. drop, Pietro leapt onto the harbor the harsh cobblestone cold and wet caused him to slip during his dismount sending his body crashing to the ground, Wanda, still on the boat looked down to see him rolling on the ground hobbled over in pain. “Co-come on jump.” Wanda hesitated, growing wary of the people unloading the ship who were getting closer she had no choice but to jump. She made a panicked leap towards her brother taken back by his sister's frantic flailing Pietro made a desperate attempt to catch her. They both hit the ground Wanda in a daze and Pietro in even more pain than before his breaths now labored, but they couldn't afford to stop not after all they went through to get there, Pietro picked himself up off the ground tugging at his sister's sleeve urging her to do the same. Once to their feet Pietro headed towards the alleyway “HEY! HEY YOU!!!” the man dropped the crate he was carrying making his way over to the pair. The ground shook violently the man albeit fat, was quick and angry never had they seen a face contorted in such a way. It was pure malice, Wanda and Pietro both stood in shock their bodies unsure of what to do. The crashing of the crates snapped him back into reality “GO!!!” Pietro turned quick on his heels, Wanda still in hand was thrown off her feet she hit the ground hard, the man now closing in loomed over her pulling her up by her wrist “what do you think you’re doing?!” Her eyes were big with uncertainty and fear. His grip was tight his calloused fingers dug into her skin “WANDA HIT HIM!!”Pietro looked to be busy with something so she was left to her own devices, all she could muster was a sharp kick it must’ve been enough because he stumbled back. Now free she headed for the alleyway as fast as she could her feet aching, eyes burning with tears she ran till she felt the fatigue grip at her.

 

Wanda’s vision was hazy she stumbled to find some support, she had managed to catch a wall before she fell to her knees. The wet cobblestone, so cold that it sent a jolt through her body throwing her out of her dream-like state. She rose the best she could using the wall to balance her out she looked around for her brother when she heard a loud thunderous crash. Pietro came racing around the corner grabbing Wanda as he passed, the guards path blocked by barrels of fish he had knocked down. Even though Pietro knew they were slowed he didn’t dare risk being caught again Wanda despite herself did the best she could to keep up. Pietro stopped in front of a rundown old creaky apartment complex, Pietro was sure to look around before heading in the alley beside the building. Once he was sure they were clear he let go of Wanda’s hand it was red and slightly bruised from the rough handling. Wanda could no longer stand and slumped near a dumpster next to a brick wall. Pietro looked to Wanda, her hair tangled and matted from having to lie on the hard wooden floor under the boat. Pietro could see she wasn’t well, the trip had taken more of a toll on both of them than they cared to admit, but even so Pietro carried on the best he could for her sake. The air was cold, a drop of rain trickled down his cheek, Pietro while looking up at the sky to be sure his sense had not deceived him about the shower to come caught a glimpse of a boarded up window. The window was just above a fire escape, but the ladder had rusted and fallen away. Pietro looked to Wanda to see if she could help him get up to the window but, she was too tired to even view their surroundings. It looked as though he was on his own for tonight, Pietro looked around the alley for anything to give him a boost without crushing under his weight when he came across a metal trash can in the far reaches of the alley faintly illuminated by the street light, its form outlined by the faint yellow glow.

 

Pietro stepped forward some trash fell from the can, figuring it was the wind he continued, until he saw large yellow eyes. Nothing more than an alley cat Pietro went down into a slight crouch in hopes of getting the can without provoking the feral creature but despite this the cat was unpleased and swatted at him batting him away leaving slight cuts across his face. “Augh!!! Damn cat!!” but before Pietro could strike the feline it darted out of the alley quick to make an escape from the unfamiliar beings. After checking his face for blood, Pietro dragged the trash can under the fire escape allowing for him to reach the window above. The plywood used to cover it was lazily leaning to the side and the nails were half-heartedly hammered in, most likely due to the assumption that no one would dare make the attempt to try and get in. With a few tugs of force Pietro was able to get the plywood out of the way setting it down to the side so as to not arouse suspicion and for a cover so that no one would notice something was amiss. “Wanda! Come on” Pietro called beckoning her to follow she just simply shook her head no. She looked like nothing more than a lifeless doll abandoned in an alley, Pietro crawled in while listening for any suspicious sound before climbing back down to bring Wanda up. Putting all modesty aside Pietro lifted Wanda over his shoulder so as to be able to carry her up the fire escape to the window. The room held a foul stench that smelt of mildew and decay Pietro recoiled at it both times when he had stepped inside, the floor groaned as he made his way to the corner of the room nearest to the window. Gently he sat Wanda down not once had she stirred since she laid down in that alley Pietro worried she’d never wake up from her death-like slumber, her breathing so shallow had the new world not been asleep when they arrived he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. The most he could do now was his best to keep them warm, Pietro picked up Wanda once again her skin sleek, wet, and cold. Pietro now sitting where she once was while cradling her to keep her warm. Slowly rocking her back and forth as he himself joined her in the sandman’s embrace.

 

“They said the casualties of the Russian civil war were momentous, somewhere in the hundred-thousands, some who were innocent young men. Now nothing more than a pile of needless death, at least that’s how I saw it.” Pietro didn’t exactly feel the same way about the futility of war. He’d go off on these rants turned monologues about doing what one must do to protect those that they love and the things that they hold dear, but Wanda knew there could be no compromise with war; it cannot be reformed or controlled; cannot be disciplined into decency or codified into common sense; for war is the slaughter of human beings, temporarily regarded as enemies, on as large a scale as possible. The house which they lived was nothing more than a shack with one bedroom with which they shared, the cold air stung her cheeks Wanda did her best to bundle herself up. Her coat being made of ragged animal pelts that her brother had found or stolen from markets. The pelts were thin and somewhat itchy, the stench that wafted off of it as the wind blew repulsed her. She resented the coat, it felt like nothing more than a physical reminder of what they had been reduced to ever since the wars started. The fireplace now bearing only hot embers and darkened wood, Wanda got up each movement a sharp pain from being in one place for so long trying to keep warm.

 

She grabbed the poker and moved the ashes around in hopes of reviving the flames once more but nothing can come from nothing and she knew it was all for not least she get more wood. So she returned to her spot when she heard a loud knock on the door, Wanda froze in place planning out an escape route in case things got out of hand. “Wanda it’s me open up!” Pietro shouted she rushed to the door to let him in and look him over so as to make sure he didn’t get himself into needless trouble. Pietro set down a small pile of wood he had gotten, Wanda knew full well that he didn’t cut that wood it was far too cold and his hands too warm. She knew better than to ask but it still upset her “Where’d you get the wood...” He continued to take off his scarf and coat, no response. Petro avoided eye contact with Wanda as he put the wood in the fireplace “Where did you get the wood?” Her voice raised, tone stern Pietro was fed up with her persistence “What does it matter Wanda, Jesus I got us some wood.” Wanda cut off his to the bedroom “It matters because we’re in enough trouble as it is!” she threw a flurry of punches to his arm all of which did nothing but annoy him “Pietro, please we’re constantly on the run I’m tired” Pietro sighed while he intended to do anything to keep the two of them safe he would always be willing to compromise if it meant keep her happy. “Fine, what do you want me to do?” Wand lead him back to the fireplace where they sat down on the floor.

 

The heat of the flames engulfed them taking them away from winter’s grasp the fire caught all the colors in Wanda’s eyes the heat causing the pale skin to become flushed with blood. “There’s a man who works at the market, he’s a good man Pietro i swear.” He already knew where this was going Pietro involuntarily rolled his eyes at the idea, but Wanda remained firm cupping Pietro’s face with her hands “Look at me” This slightly startled him never had he seen her so determined her eyes now a bright hazel with the flames reflecting from them, the fire seeming to grow brighter. “He pays well he doesn't’ ask any questions please.” Pietro saw the pain in her face grow as he mulled over his decision “Alright I’ll do it where is he?” Wanda lit up rushing to hug Him he soft brown hair brushing against his face, her breast crushed against his chest, she was warm. He held her in his arms for hours “Thank you Pietro, thank you.”


	3. Bye Bye Blackbird

“Excuse me?” Tony said caught off guard by Steve’s proposal “Look it’s just too dangerous for Peter right now and it’s only going to get worse with your profession.” “I’m like any other man Steve all I do is supply a demand” Steve scoffed in disbelief “and what exactly is that Tony, why don’t you tell me” Tony was done discussing this he got up to leave the room when a thought that had been preying on Tony’s mind came to light “what the hell does this even matter to you Steve? Why are you so concerned all of a sudden?” Steve was slowly but surely losing his composure “Look, just-” A hitch in Steve’s throat stopped him mid-sentence. Tony stood in the doorway waiting for Steve to continue. As pissed as he was he knew Steve would never be so persistent if it wasn’t important. “Who have you been dealing with Tony?” Tony turned around now genuinely concerned “What do you mean Steve? What’d you hear?” Tony now saw Steve’s face riddled with traces of fear that which he hadn’t seen since the conversation began, this scared him. “I can’t protect you Tony, please understand that if I could I would but I just can’t not this time.” Tony was annoyed with Steve’s beating around the bush way of speaking surely it couldn’t have been that bad if he’d just spit it out “Steve what the hell is it?” Steve walked to Tony’s office dragging him closely behind “Steve you’re freakin me out what the hell has gotten into you?” Steve began checking the windows before closing the curtains, and door behind them.

The room was dark and the air warm; it was somewhat difficult to see the light behind the curtains was just enough to make out the outline of Steve’s figure and where he resided in the room but nothing else. “Tell me who’s in your Faction” again Tony didn’t understand why Steve needed this information nor did he feel comfortable releasing it to him seeing as how he was an officer. Steve noticed Tony’s reluctance “Tony I don’t need names just tell me which gangs I promise i won’t tell anyone” this didn’t provide Tony any reassurance, but Tony needed to know what Steve knew and even if he did know who was who nobody would say anything, lest they get their tongues cut out. “Fine but nothing we say leaves this room, don’t go stirring anything up either damned Boy Scout.” Steve leaned in to make sure he heard every word “Okay I have 7 factions which include ‘Lucky’ Laufeyson,’Mad Hatter’ Odinson, Luke Cage, Bruce Banner, Henry ‘Hank’ Pym, Clint Barton, and lastly Sam Wilson.” Steve looked to be contemplating something “We got word someone put a hit out on one of your guys” Tony quickly turned his gaze to Steve “What, Who?” Steve put his hand in front of Tony as a means to settle him down “Look I don’t know, the guy we caught wouldn’t say all we know is that someone put out a hit, so i suggest you keep an eye out I’m sick of seeing bodies in the street.” Tony was now pacing back and forth going through a countless number of suspects and scenarios in which they might try to off his men. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Steve stepped forward stopping Tony dead in his tracks “Look don’t do anything crazy alright we don’t know enough yet.” Steve opened the door to leave, the light almost blinding “Peter will be over tonight, take care of him.” “Thanks Tony.” The door closed behind him leaving Tony in silence, alone in his office mulling over everything that had just been said. “I need to make a call.”

School let out around 4:00 o’clock with the ring of a bell, the once empty school house was bustling with young happy faces as young men and women switched out their dress shoes, and kitten heels for sneakers and slippers. Steve waited for peter’s face to emerge from the crowd, Peter was one of the last few to leave the building “Peter!” Steve waved him down. Peter raced down the steps looking around for Tony but much to his surprise he was nowhere to be found “what are you doing here?” Peter asked as he continued looking for any sign that Tony had been or was there but he wasn’t this was highly unusual and made him slightly uneasy. Steve saw the concern on his face and reassured Peter that everything was alright “Your dad wanted me to look after you for a while that’s all.” once everything was cleared up Peter relaxed and went back to his cynical demeanor “yeah father” Peter scoffed as Steve walked him back to the car “Oh come on I think you’re being too hard on him.” Steve opened the door for Peter to get in “Tell me did your dad carry around a browning, model 1922 in his coat pocket?” Steve came around to the driver’s side of the vehicle and sat down “No my father carried around a bottle all day.” Peter turned his gaze to the floor he had a nasty habit of being insensitive “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” but Steve didn’t want to hear it “You spoke your mind and there’s no shame in that.” Steve started up the car and they headed out. Peter nodded, it had been so long since he spoke to anyone he hadn’t even realized all the rage he had pent up “So tell me how you have been.” Steve noticed Peter’s reluctance to speak he expected as much it had been so long since they had last seen each other things are bound to change. “Hey how about we stop for something to eat?” Peter looked like he had just been awoken from some sort of dream as his eyes were wide Peter was unsure why such an offer surprised him it just did “Well?” Peter shook his head yes and before he knew it they were on highway headed to P.J. Clarke’s. The restaurant was run by one Patrick J. Clarke, Steve said that P.J. was an Irish immigrant who was hired back in the early 1900s, by Mr. Duneen who ran the saloon before him. After Mr. Duneen passed Patrick bought the bar and renamed it. Steve and Peter parked in an alley and walked up to the establishment, The inside had only a handful of people sitting at the tables assorted around the building what looked to be a bar top was now empty the shelves barren covered in a thick layer of dust, yet the stools still remained behind the bar there was a man wiping off the counter it didn’t look to be dirty so Peter could only assume he was doing it as busy work. The man looked up to see Steve standing before him the man almost jumped over the bar top to hug him. “Steve it’s been so long since I’ve seen you how have you been?” but before Steve could answer he was shoving Steve, and Peter to a bar stool “I’ve been fine Mr. Clarke” Mr. Clarke looked to be grabbing some sort of menu “Enough with that Mr. Clarke nonsense it’s P.J.” Mr. Clarke set the menus before them and headed towards the kitchen “Thank you P.J.” during this entire transaction Peter sat there eyes wide unsure of whether or not to intrude on such a personal moment “so you know each other?” Peter finally brought his face up from the floor and faced Steve when asking this, it truly had been a long time since they had seen each other how Peter ever forgot Steve’s eyes baffled him it looked as though the sea shifted within whenever the light hit them in all honesty it was Steve’s best feature. “Oh yeah this place was like a second home to me, he gave me my first job and fed me when I was starving. P.J. is like a father to me.” a small smirk broke out on Steve’s face “Well glad to see you happy you seem to be a lot more busy lately y’know?” Steve snickered at the notion “Busy cleaning up your father’s messes” this seemed to put a damper on things as Peter stopped smiling “He’s not my dad alright come on I’m not a kid anymore you don’t have to call him that” before Steve could say something P.J. came back out with drinks, cups of coffee. “So what would you like to eat?” Steve looked to be on the verge of blurting something out when he collected himself so that he could answer P.J. “I’ll have a Cheese Burger” P.J. then turned his gaze to Peter “what would you like kid?” Peter’s brow was furrowed avoiding eye contact he just stared at his mug of coffee as though he hadn’t heard what had been asked, Steve ended up answering for him “He’ll have a burger too.”

P.J. went back to the kitchen tying up his apron, “Now what did you mean by that?” Peter had hoped Steve forgot what he said and let it go so that they could enjoy a nice quiet meal but unfortunately that wasn’t the case “You heard what i said he’s not my dad Steve, look I know what you’re trying to do here but it won’t work okay.” Steve sighed taking a sip of his coffee “Well what do you want me to do?” Peter could tell that Steve was truly at a loss for words he was obviously trying to form a connection but couldn’t find the proper way to do it “Just be you y’know” Steve was unsure what Peter meant by this , but just as he was about to speak P.J. came back with their food. The cheese melted over the patty the bun warm and fluffy coated with sesame seeds with a side of French fries to go with it. The burger was monstrous in Peter’s small hands “Sorry I should’ve asked if you wanted lettuce or-” but Peter didn’t seem to mind “No this is fine it’s just fine.” Steve finished his burger up in just under 10 minutes whereas Peter had a hard time just fitting his mouth around it. In the end Peter was forced to take it home, Steve said his goodbyes to P.J. promising he’d be back again soon, the sun had set and it was time to go home. Steve had nice ranch style house in a very generic upstanding neighborhood it so cheesy that Peter half expected a wife to come out and kiss Steve on the cheek with a martini in hand and a golden retriever to greet him at the door. The floors were a nice warm hazel color, red oak flooring throughout the house minus the kitchen which had a checkerboard style to it. The house was very neat and warm rugs hugged the floor, the living room like many houses had a fireplace the mantle held pictures and medals of Steve’s time in the military except for one The picture was of a sweet woman her hair pulled up in a messy bun with two strands of hair on each side of her face. The smile breaking her porcelain like face making her look more lifelike. Her face Peter didn’t know why but her smile almost made him cry as Steve was showing Peter to his room he noticed that Peter had stopped in front of the mantle and no amount of coaxing would move him. “Peter.” Steve now patted Peter on his back almost knocking him off his feet Steve had very concerned look on his face now as if he just saw something disturbing Peter has always had a nasty habit of spacing out but this is the longest he’s ever been in that state noticing Steve’s look Peter reassured him that everything was alright and that he had just saw something interesting. They continued their journey upstairs stopping at a nice bedroom down the hall from Steve’s room, “well I’ll leave you to get settled.” 

The room had a lot more space than his bedroom, it could’ve just been the fact that the ceiling wasn’t slanted he never noticed how much of a difference such a minor change would make he could see now why Tony was so adamant of Peter rethinking his choice of living spaces. The dresser drawers were empty, as expected seeing as how Steve tends to keep to himself although it was still odd that he’d have a dressing table on the other side of the room. The dressing table had a brush and some makeup tools “a woman?” Peter had never pegged Steve as a womanizer although he certainly had the looks for it. Peter took off his glasses setting them on dresser table, as he walked over to the bed to change out of his school clothes when he realized that he never stopped by his house to pick up some clothes. Peter walked down the hall looking for Steve’s room, when he came across a door with light seeping out from under the door. Peter for some reason was hesitant surely Steve was tired from today and no longer wished to be bothered Peter was a second away from heading back to his room when Steve opened the door startling Peter. “Hey, you need something?” Steve cocked his head to the side he wore nothing but a bathrobe, but his hair was still dry “Oh uh sorry I just don’t have uh any clothes…” This must’ve just occurred to Steve too because he began frantically looking for something Peter could wear for the night when he finally settled on a pair of light blue pajama pants with white trim, and a button up pajama shirt of the same design. “I’m Sorry about this it’s all I have that might fit you” Steve folded the clothes and them to Peter, this was the longest interaction either of them had before separating it left of them both exhausted and speechless Peter did his best to make the situation less awkward “T-thanks” before Steve could respond the boy was darting down the hall “Good night…” Steve then closed the door and retired to bed.


End file.
